Friday, 25 May 2012


This simplistic photo took me back to my childhood.  When anything was possible.  When everything was a game.

We lived next door to our cousins, and our days were filled with play.  There were six of us at one stage, ranging in ages from two to ten.

Back then, Enid Blyton's children's books played a large part in our games.  But, being one short of the 'Secret Seven' and one too many for the 'Famous Five' - two series of the author's books, we became the 'Secret Six'.

Our meetings were held in the wood shed.  My cousin, the eldest of us all, would write notes which we would burn after the meeting.  It was a dirt floor so the fire hazard was minimal, and besides we had our own personal fire extinguisher if the need came about.  I'll leave that to your imagination.

Of course, not much happened in our small part of the world but we made our own adventures, created our own mysteries.

Those days when we planned and pondered were some of the happiest I can recall.  There's nothing quite like a child's imagination.

No comments:

Post a Comment